Saturday, December 5, 2009

Let There Be Peace on Earth

Holy Spirit
(Despite the disjointed place this entry takes after such a joyful previous post, I feel the need to reflect and share my thoughts after watching a video about suicide bombing for my Anthropology class.)

I'm wiping away tears as I write this, surprised at the profundity of my experience, and deeply saddened by the tragic reality of the constant conflict in this war-torn region of the world, yet in spite of the seemingly hopeless situation, I feel deeply moved and inspired to do what I can to act as an agent of peace in a world rent by violence.

Recently, I have been learning about the history of the Middle East in my Anthropology class, and I am ashamed to discover that I nearly quite literally knew nothing about the subject until a few weeks ago. It has been an overwhelming amount of information, and long overdue, but better late than never. Still, it shocks and frustrates me to realize how little the rest of the American public knows about the long and complicated history of violence in the Middle East and the motivations for the different factions.

Honestly, even eight years after the pivotal September 11, I still knew little more than 1) Palestinians and Israelis hate each other 2) Osama bin Laden is the head of a terrorist organization taking refuge in Afghanistan and 3) the United States has become embroiled in the never-ending conflicts in an attempt to establish democracy and peace. It was easy to hear reports of yet another car or suicide bombing on the evening news and just pass it out of mind as something to be expected "over there" without ever learning what could drive a human being to commit such an act against his fellow human beings.

On top of learning the histories of the countries in the Middle East, I have just recently also decided to learn Arabic, even if I can't take it as a class next semester, and only tonight I was practicing reading, writing, and pronouncing some of the letters before I watched this documentary.

All of this being said, I may not be sure at the moment, but I feel as if perhaps God might have revealed another glimpse of my vocation to me. I can't think of many other reasons why my curiosity for Islam and this fascinating-- yet terrifyingly difficult-- culture has been aroused in me, but after seeing children watching footage of their father's "martyrdom" and seeing mothers weeping over the sudden and inexplicable death of their sons, after seeing blood- and dust-covered people fleeing and being carried from the flaming ruins of a car bombing in distinctly September 11-esque images and the dismembered remains of a woman suicide bomber amidst the wreckage, after seeing people throwing rocks and flares over walls that divide a city illuminated by explosions at night, I feel that

Something must be done.

And not just "something must be done," but "I must do something, even in what small ways I can, to bring the love of God not just to these people, but to everyone I encounter." Still, I also can't help but feel an increasing tug within myself when I recognize the gifts for language and communication and the ability to think critically and passively apart from emotions along with a natural curiosity that I have been blessed with. And I wonder How can I use these gifts to serve God?

For a while now, I have held the idea-- almost a vague goal-- of obtaining a job where I could serve as a peacemaker, an intermediary where I could use my talents to bridge the gaps between peoples in order to bring them closer as brothers and sisters in respect and peace. I find myself thinking more and more of the Prayer of St. Francis and it is fast becoming my mantra.

I have already embraced the French culture through learning that language, and I feel that it has prepared me to continue to do so, possibly until I can love the entire world and see it more through the eyes of God. In any case, I feel that I at least have a good stepping stone to foray ahead into the exotic and unknown culture of the Middle East. And whether it's my mission to minister to "the eldest daughter of the Church" or my brothers and sisters in Judaism and Islam I cannot say right now, but I can only pray that God graces me with the ability to radiate his love and joy to whomever I am called to serve.

It is a grim world that I find myself entering, and it would be too easy to succumb to the overwhelming darkness that stands before us. But lest I seem too hopeful and naive in my young age, I take comfort in the phrase that appears in the holy scriptures the most often: "Be not afraid!"

I will end with two quotes by a man I wish we still had among us; yet we do not have need for another John Paul II. He faithfully served in his time in this life, and it is with deepest admiration and inspiration that I look to him as my time is at hand:

"It is the duty of all believers, to whichever religion they belong, to proclaim that we can never be happy pitted one against the other, the future of humanity will never be able to be secured by terrorism and by the logic of war."

"Dear young people...Do not wait until you are older in order to set out on the path of holiness! Holiness is always youthful, just as eternal as the youthfulness of God. You are young, and the Pope is old, 82 or 83 years of life is not the same as 22 or 23. But the Pope still fully identifies with your hopes and aspirations. Although I have lived through much darkness, under harsh totalitarian regimes, I have seen enough evidence to be unshakably convinced that no difficulty, no fear is so great that it can completely suffocate the hope that springs eternal in the hearts of the young. You are our hope; the young are our hope. Do not let that hope die! Stake your lives on it! We are not the sum of our weaknesses and failures; we are the sum of the Father's love for us and our real capacity to become the image of his Son."
Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Victory!


Today, at approximately 11:00 P.M. CST, I crossed the 50,000 word finish line for the fourth year in a row, thus completing another successful year of National Novel Writing Month and proving to myself that I can do anything if I set my mind to it. Even with the pressure of my freshman fall semester, I managed to set a goal and see it through, and the feeling never gets old. Despite all my planning before November this year, I still had quite a rough time of it in the middle, but I think if I had not done the preparation I had, I might not have made it this year. Still, I managed to pull ahead from behind and even finish a day early.

Some people will never understand why we sign up for this crazy, month-long endeavor we affectionately call "NaNo," and as my dad said just this morning "writing 50,000 words just sounds like torture to me." And it can be! Even to me at times. But the thing that keeps me coming back is the feeling of satisfaction knowing that I made the decision to allow myself to dream and set a challenging goal, and not only to set that goal, but to put in the effort of achieving it, no matter what. It's my goal to actually publish a novel one day, and even though my four NaNo manuscripts are piles of rubbish right now, I can say that I have written four books, and having completed the latest one has inspired me to pursue editing and completing the others.

Right now, I'm content with the 50,048 words I have written, and my poor mind and hands are begging for a respite. I may let my Muse have a little bit of a vacation, but it's going back to work soon to get started on revising. For now, though, I'm going to put off writing about my great Thanksgiving break and simply bask in the glow of my glorious purple winner bar.



Victory - Bond

Monday, November 16, 2009

Slightly Behind, but Hanging in There

Cover of "Beauty and the Beast"
I can't believe it's been five days since I last updated here. Lately, everything has been about catching up.

I spent a great weekend at home, where I got to see my brother do an astounding job at playing the part of Gaston in our high school's production of Beauty and the Beast, and it was just wonderful talking to a lot of my old friends from school who were involved in the production. I especially enjoyed seeing our former drama teacher, who flew in from Amarillo just to see the play. As much as I'm enjoying college and I was ready to move on in life just a few months ago this spring, I realize now how much I want to savor everything about life; being back home really makes me wistful for the good times there, and seeing the play this weekend brought back good memories from when I was in Annie, Get Your Gun two years ago.

On Saturday, I slept in, having stayed up until almost 3:00 the night before. I only had just enough time to cobble together my little presentation on writing before scrambling out the door for my afternoon at the Wells Branch Library where I used to work. I passed the whole afternoon there hosting a write-in in the meeting room. Only four other people came, and we barely socialized, but even without talking, I still fought to eke out every word that afternoon. All in all, I felt kind of sad that I spent half the day somewhat alone in a small meeting room at my former place of work, but it wasn't a total waste because I did make progress, no matter how painstakingly.

Saturday night on my way home, I happened to see some familiar cars in the parking lot at church, so I poked my head into the youth group's office to see what was going on. It was a good thing I did since there was a retreat planning meeting going on, and I was able to see several people from my youth group that I missed on my last visit. I spent the next couple hours with my friend Patrick, talking about life and vocations and faith, and it was really good to be able to share my feelings in words with someone else at the same stage of life.

Sunday, I again slept late, trying to catch up on sleep lost at the end of last week, but it was just as well since I ended up going to the youth-served mass at 11:45. This time, I was able to see my former piano teacher and her adorable baby, as well as our pastor at my home parish. I couldn't believe that I had forgotten that November 15 was the feast day of St. Albert, the parish's patron.

I didn't do much the rest of the afternoon except go out to Half Price Books to use a 50% off coupon, netting me a Berlitz Intermediate Italian course for just about $7.00, plus two other workbooks, Russian and Arabic in 10 Minutes a Day. Since I was near SuperCuts, I also got a haircut, which feels much better, although with the cold front that came in last night, my head is cold now!

As for words, I managed to write about 2,000 today, although ideally, I should be about 1,000 further. I'm not sure what it is, but I have faced this problem almost every year where I just absolutely hate my story and want to trash it. Before November started, I made around fifty notecards with scene ideas on them, but the only thing that was really cemented in my head was the introduction to the story. When that was finished, the plot kind of fizzled out, and I have been making up absolute rubbish in the meantime to fill the gap. Still, I managed to cross over the halfway mark (whoop! ^_^) today, and if I can bang out at least 10,000 more words, it ought to be smoother sailing from there. Too bad these words don't count! ;)

Current wordcount: 25,392 and counting

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

2,000 words = Much Better Day

So, I'm definitely going to be trying to write as early in the day as I can; today, I got 2,000 words more written, and while it started off slowly at first, I ditched the scene that was going nowhere and jumped ahead to something I actually had planned on a plotcard. Sure, it was almost all infodump, but those words can be cut later. They all count now! Every, last, precious one of them ;)

So now, I'm just a tad shy of 20,000 words!

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

The Words Are Barely Flowing... But They Are Coming None the Less


I think I need to go back to writing in the morning and not late at night. These past two nights, I have struggled to put out even 1,000 words, which I can normally knock out in a good, productive 30 minutes. I think I have just been too tired mentally to be very creative, not to mention I am in the slogging grounds nearing the middle of the story. I also happen to realize that I'm currently in a doldrums area where my plotcards don't cover, very well, but fortunately, I have a lot of good scene ideas to use later.

I feel like I'm behind, even though I'm managing to hold my position at just barely beyond where I need to be. Hoping tomorrow goes better.

Current count: 17,169

Monday, November 9, 2009

A Hard 1k More

I don't know what it was, but I was so tired tonight, that I barely managed to eke out 1,000 more words. I had to adjust the time zone on my profile due to the time change at the beginning of the month, but I fortunately am right about where I need to be.

I'm too tired to write much more, so I'm off to bed. Hopefully, I can make use of my lack of both Anthropology AND Shakespeare lessons tomorrow to get some more inspiring words written.

Current wordcount: 16,150

Saturday, November 7, 2009

No New Words Tonight, but A Midsummer Night's Dream for Inspiration

Shakespeare.
I spent most of the day doing chores and then working on homework/reading, so I didn't write at all today, which makes me very sad. But, I did get somethings done, and this is what the word cushion is for. Hopefully, tomorrow, even though I still have a lot to do, I will be able to add another 1,000 words on.

As a side note, I went to see the drama company's presentation of A Midsummer Night's Dream since I just recently studied that play in my Shakespeare class. It's a good thing I'd just read it since the director went in a quasi-futuristic direction with the costumes and set (which included flying robots playing some faeries, engineered by the computer science department). At first, I wasn't sure what to think of it all, but by the end, I really enjoyed it, and the space atmosphere actually made me look at the traditional faeries slightly differently. Who says they couldn't also be futuristic beings from another world or time?

Anyway, I'll get around to writing my extra credit review sometime, maybe as a warmup for a writing session tomorrow.

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

BIG Day and the Widgets Are Working!

William Shakespeare
Today was a good Friday. I was sad that I missed my French class, but it was because I won the "lunch lottery" with my Shakespeare professor by sending him an email of less than two sentences saying I wanted to talk about his dog, Roselyn with him, and I ended up being one of the four students chosen by his wife to go to lunch with him. He drove three of us in his nice BMW (with plates that read, SHKSPR, of course) to a very nice restaurant called La Riviera, where we had a great lunch there, and I got to know my teacher and a couple of my classmates better.

Then, on the writing front... I worked in the library after a fascinating Linguistics class today (we're finally getting into historical- and sociolinguistics (which involves finding common ancestors of language families). Anyway, I was feeling a little depressed because it was that time of day when the sun is going away, and I realized that almost all of my friends are gone for the weekend: My roommate, my next door neighbors, my high school friends, and my friend Anna is here, but her parents are visiting. I was thinking it was a little sad that I had nothing to do on a Friday night, but I was able to get out about 1,000 words before dinner, where I fortunately ran into my Sbisa friend Steven. Interestingly, he was going to the production of A Midsummer Night's Dream tonight, which I had planned on going to alone, but while I would have loved to join him and his friends, just prior to dinner, I learned that some wrimos from the area were having an impromptu writein at the local Barnes and Noble, so I ended up going there, and it was great.

It's funny how writers are often "strange" people, but isn't everyone a little strange if you think about it? They weren't anywhere near as "weird" as a lot of the Austinite bunch, but it was immense fun to write with four other wrimos and learn about similar interests. We had two "word wars" (in which everyone tries to write as much as possible within a set time limit-- in our case, 30 minutes-- before comparing totals), which helped me get another couple thousand words written. Then we had fun browsing the sci-fi and fantasy section of the bookstore and giving our input on various authors and series, after which we left because it was closing, only to stand outside for another half hour talking about video games and programming.

I know, it was kind of a nerd fest, but I haven't had people like that to talk to forever, and it was a lot of fun.

Anyway, as you can see my by nifty widget, which is *finally* working, I now have a grand total of 13,282 words, which puts me where I need to be by the end of Sunday! Good thing, too, since I have a lot of work to do this weekend.

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

Friday, November 6, 2009

Nearly 1/5 of the way there already?



I just ran out of time to cross the 10k mark tonight, but I got darn close at 9,741 words total. Today was a very good writing day: the protagonist can't leave the village, effectively subjecting him to my every whim and fancy; the villain has been introduced, though only vaguely, and he's even more repulsive than I made him in the outline; and the protagonist has met his fey protagonist counterpart, which I can tell you was quite the candybar scene to write!

How exciting! It's already been almost a week, and we're steaming along quite well. Here's to keeping the forward momentum and racking up the words this weekend!



Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Daily Quota for Tomorrow Reached Tonight

Today, I had no Anthropology video lecture, so I had a free hour in the library to write about a thousand words. Then, later, after much searching the internet for a suitable "controversial" article for my French class, I came back to the room and, hoping for at least 500 words, actually put out almost another 1,000, bringing my total up to 6,326 so far, and that's about how much I need to have by tomorrow night!

Good thing, too, since I have French club AND a history test to study for tomorrow...

But hooray for being ahead of schedule. If I can just keep this little buffer up, and increase it little by little, this just might be more doable than I thought this year.

Monday, November 2, 2009

Slightly Ahead of Schedule

I added almost 3,000 more words today, bringing me to just slightly over the brink of 4k at an exact count of 4,054, which puts me about 700 words ahead of schedule.

The protagonist has arrived in the village and inspected the mansion he inherited from his eccentric, late uncle. Oh, and some of the local boys made a gruesome discovery to kick things off (that would be ironic if you could read the draft-- they were playing soccer at the time).

Nothing like a murder mystery in a sleepy, countryside village to get the ball rolling (oh, I'm just full of these puns tonight!) ;)


And We're Off!



It's November 1, one of the best times of the year!

Not only is today the Feast of All Saints but it is also the start of National Novel Writing Month (or NaNoWriMo for short). For those who don't know, each November sine 2006, I have participated in NaNo and "won" by successfully writing 50,000 words of fiction on a new project within the 30 days of November. Why do I do this? Simply because I can (well, and I love creative writing, so it gives me a good excuse to sit down and bash out a book at least once a year).

Anyway, the good folks at the Office of Letters and Light have progressively improved the NaNoWriMo site over the years, and one of the coolest things about NaNo are the nifty wordcount widgets that track one's progress over the course of the month. Currently, they don't seem to be up and running, but soon, you will be able to see a brief summary of my wordcount progress each day, as I'll be trying to update my blog with a report of how the writing went each day. Hopefully, this will bring this blog back around to its original intent: namely, writing.

In other news, this weekend, I made my first visit back to Austin since moving to college. It was really nice to visit many of my friends and a couple teachers from back home, and of course, I got to spend some quality time with my much-missed dog. It all passed too quickly, though, but fortunately it won't be long before I can take another short break and come back to see my high school's production of Beauty and the Beast.

While I was in Austin, I was able to go to the midnight countdown for NaNoWriMo, which I've never been able to attend in the past because Halloween always fell on a school night. This time, the extra hour with the time change helped make up for the lack of sleep I got that night, and although most of the other Austin "Wrimos" are a bit... strange (hey, keep Austin weird, ya'll), it was still exciting to hear people roaring "10 minutes!" and "2 minutes!" before counting down the final moments of October to begin writing our novels at midnight on November 1. I managed to get in about 1,300 words in the first 50 minutes before feeling too tired to continue, so I headed home.

I didn't get any more words in on Sunday, even after I headed back to College Station, but it was a good start to my fourth NaNoWriMo, and I'm going to try to post here each night with the progress I made for each day of November.

Happy novelling!




Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

It's Almost That Time Again...

I had considered coming home this weekend, but I had too much going on here for that to be possible, so I will go back to Austin on Halloween weekend for the first time since moving to college. Usually, nothing particularly noteworthy occurs during the week, but I had another eventful weekend, starting on Friday night.

Christopher West, renowned Theology of the Body speaker, came to Texas A&M to deliver a presentation titled "The Longing." I was pleased that there was a large turnout and that both Trever and Seth came along. I was also happy to see my friend Ciera from my church at home. A group of Catholics from Texas State had come up that evening to attend the event, and I hadn't seen her for a couple months (which is hard to believe). I thought West's delivery was excellent, although most of it was what I'd heard in the videos I've been watching in my Theology of the Body study group, and I'm pretty sure he was preaching mostly to the choir, but maybe there were some people in the audience who hadn't heard the "revolution" yet.

I had to leave early because my friend Anna had invited me to see Where the Wild Things Are. I don't remember much from the children's book, which is apparently only about nine sentences long. It's strange yet kind of amazing how many movies are based off of books these days and how many are based on extremely simple children's books with hardly any plot to develop for two hours. My reaction to the film is mixed: Overall, I suppose I enjoyed it, but it was a very bizarre movie. It has some very touching moments, but the plot is kind of boring; I did crack up at some occasions simply because of the complete unexpectedness of certain scenes. As the movie became stranger and stranger, Anna turned to me at one point and said (jokingly), "Am I high? Stop putting drugs in my drinks." It could just be that Where the Wild Things Are was never a favorite of mine in childhood, but I preferred the film adaptations of Charlotte's Web and Horton Hears a Who much more.

When I returned to my room, I did my laundry then since I would not have time the next day. While I was waiting for my laundry, I wanted to try out a new piece of music I'd just printed-- lately, I've been really in love with Chopin's Nocturnes-- but I was very disappointed to be beaten to the piano in the All Faith's Chapel nearby by only seconds by a guy with a ponytail wearing a bathrobe. I waited for about half an hour (the length of a washing cycle) while he and a girl plunked out a pretty discordant duet they were working on, despairing how pathetic it was that I couldn't even find a free piano at midnight on a Friday night (when, I assume, most people are out getting drunk and hardly thinking of classical music).






Anyway, I got up earlier than usual on Saturday to go to Bryan in order to attend a writers conference that I had heard about from the municipal liaison of the Austin region for NaNoWriMo (more about NaNo below). There weren't many people there (it is Bryan, after all), but I did meet the very kind and noble Ms. Renée Giroux whose business, Stimulating-Conversation, sponsored the event. While she does not feel the call to write stories herself, she does feel it is her mission to help writers market themselves as effectively as they can in order to bring the stories they have to tell into the world. In an industry where there are many predators seeking to prey upon unsuspecting writers, I was heartened to meet someone who is using her talents to make her corner of the world just a little bit better. I also met a writer (Dawn Ireland) from Houston who gave a presentation about critique groups and was kind enough to actually give me a copy of her book The Puppy Baby Book. I also delivered a speech about National Novel Writing Month since it's right around the corner, and I was happy to find other people who were interested in the event. Overall, the writers conference allowed me to meet some other creative people and learn a few things, not to mention I got to bring home a free box of donuts.

After the writers conference, Anna picked me up and we went with our friend Carly from French Club to the new frozen yogurt place called Spoons. It was a sort of French Club outing, although Anna's original messages sent via Facebook arrived a day late, and there was a discrepancy between the times mentioned, so people kept showing up randomly. Still, it was really good frozen yogurt and a good time was had by all.

On Sunday afternoon, I went with Anna (again) to a really neat European-style café not too far away called Sweet Eugene's and spent most of the day there attempting to do homework until about 6:00. Carly was there, too, as well as Nicolas, a French exchange student from Paris I have met through St. Mary's. After Sweet Eugene's, Anna, Nicolas, and I went to the nearby Fazoli's for dinner, and I haven't been to a Fazoli's for a long time, so it was especially good.

All in all, not an extremely productive weekend, but I fortunately didn't have too much work to do. I am, however, trying to knock out two papers before they're even due in November so that I will have as much time as possible next month to work on National Novel Writing Month. I can't believe October is almost over and another year has come and gone since I last celebrated this annual frenzy of literary abandon. It's going to be difficult this year especially now that I'm in college and my schedule is so full all the time, but having "won" by achieving my goal of 50,000 words each year since 2006, I can't let my winning streak die. Fortunately, I've been planning my story for this November for a while, although I still don't feel entirely prepared; still, that's part of the challenge and excitement of NaNo, and now, there is less than a week until the madness recommences! I'll be in Austin to attend the midnight countdown on Halloween with my fellow Austinite wrimos (yay team Lushguins!), but for now, while the thunder is rumbling on the horizon, I'd better buckle down and tidy up what work I can do now before the real storm breaks.
Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Obama Comes to Texas A&M


This week passed by fast, even though nothing really exciting happened except for probably the third round of tug-o'-war between hot, humid weather and another cool front since the start of autumn.

Oh, and the sitting president of the United States of America visited my school.

The cooler weather wasn't the only thing to arrive on Friday morning; today was finally the day everyone has been talking about for the past month. At the invitation of former President George H.W. Bush, President Barack Obama visited Texas A&M University to commend community service and volunteerism at a forum hosted by the Thousand Points of Light Institute founded by the former President Bush during his term.

When I initially learned about the president's visit to our campus, I had planned to attend the speech in Rudder Auditorium until I found out it was an invitation-only event, open to about 2,500 people. I wasn't too happy about the exclusivity of the event; after all, it seems pointless for a sitting president to visit a college campus if the students can't see him. But, actually, it may have worked out for the better this way, as I was free to wander about the activities taking place and enjoy the beautiful weather.

Almost forgetting to take my camera with me as I walked out the door this morning, I fortunately remembered to grab it just in time. Just across the street from where my fencing class is, some metal fences had been erected along the sidewalks near Rudder Tower, where the president would be speaking, and many news crews had already arrived.

(Click pictures for larger image)
I had received an email informing the campus that the security perimeter around Rudder Tower would be established at 11:00 AM, so I was curious about how I'd get back to the north side of campus after fencing, which ended at around 11:30. I came out of my building and overheard some girls talking about the event and ended up joining their conversation (that's one of the neat things about Texas A&M-- you can talk to almost anyone-- and one of the girls was actually in my French class). Anyway, while we were talking, the protesters' rally was getting set up in Spence Park across the street (although it was well out of the way of Rudder), and we saw a group of police on bikes arrive (which brought back memories of Paris for me particularly).



I was slightly annoyed that the rather brusque, outsider community personnel forced me (and several other people) to take a much longer detour around the campus to get to my French class. But it gave me a reason to go out of my way and see more of parts of the campus I hardly visit, not to mention see just how large of a barrier had been set up. Basically, the entire block that the Rudder Tower complex sits on was surrounded by metal fences and wherever a street led towards the building, several yellow-jacketed security personnel would ward away curious-- or oblivious-- pedestrians.




I was in classes until about 4:00, when the president was scheduled to deliver his speech. I had figured if I couldn't see it in person, I'd at least watch it via streaming, so I went to the nearby library and tried to do so, but the buffer stream was too slow, and what it did show was not the president, but a bunch of other people discussing community service at the forum. Out of boredom and curiosity (and the fact that the library was empty on a beautiful Friday afternoon), I decided to head back over to the park to see how the rally was coming along.

Ironically, I ran into the same girl from my French class waiting with a friend along the side of one of the roads (which would later be where the motorcade left the campus, but more about that later). Going across the street to the rally turned out to be a time-wasting diversion, but at least it was pleasant outside-- and there were dogs.

Personally, I can't stand most of President Obama's policies, but the rally was rather out of place today, as his presence on the campus was mainly to promote community service, not politics. Even though I myself am fairly conservative, I had intended to attend the president's speech anyway, and I felt, at the worst, embarrassed by the protesters and at best, bemused by their campaigning. Most of the content of the signs and speeches denounced big government, socialism, and Obamacare, all of which I can empathise with, but I wandered away from the gathering feeling bored, indifferent, and slightly annoyed (even though I thought these posters were amusing).

I ended up standing with my writer friend, Lauren, along the street and had an interesting, enlightening, and-- blessedly-- civil conversation with her about the whole affair. She's black and identifies herself as falling to the liberal end of the spectrum, though only moderately, just as I feel that I fall moderately to the right of the spectrum. But the most fortunate thing I learned is that we both agree that abortion is wrong (having no conservative shirts, I wore my 40 Days for Life t-shirt today, just in case Obama happened to see me).

Well, he just might have seen me, if only for a split second as the motorcade passed. More exciting, though, was that I actually saw him through the window of one of the black suburbans. I was pretty astonished, actually, because I had only just learned less than an hour before where to stand to see the cars pass and I thought it would be impossible to pick out which vehicle he was riding in. That's the whole point of having several identical vehicles in a line anyway, or so I thought. Still, I only just managed to realize that it was indeed him waving through the window of the third suburban (which, interestingly, passed on the far side of the road from where we were allowed to stand.)

Even though, like I said, I'm not a terrible supporter of ol' B. Hussein Obama, it was still exciting being that close to the sitting president and actually seeing him in person for the first time, although, honestly, I felt a little unsettled hearing the enthusiastic cheers of some of the people down the street. You'd think we were witnessing Jesus entering Jerusalem sitting on an ass. Well, the analogy can only stretch so far... Anyway, the closest I've probably been to a sitting president (no, not on an ass-- whether one conscripted by the state in the name of socialism or on his own-- or in a nondescript, black suburban, smart aleck) was when I was in Washington, D.C. several years ago and I saw the White House from a distance.



Long after the procession had passed, I made my way back to the library with Lauren, but on the way, I spied what could only have been the attendees of the forum all congregated around the entrance to Rudder, as well as the KVUE News van from Austin.

Later, I looked up some news articles about the event; I haven't yet had a chance to watch the entirety of the president's speech, but I'm not sure what I make of his remarks (here, taken from the Associated Press' report):

“While there’s plenty that government can and must do ... there’s a lot that government can’t and shouldn’t do and that’s where active, engaged citizens come in.”

Of course, in this instance, he was leading into a commendation, even a commissioning, one might daresay, of community service. But I think the president would do well to reflect upon his words here in light of his political agenda, as well.

After witnessing the pithy protest on campus today, then beholding Barack himself in person, then reading the (depressingly) volatile comments beneath any political news story, I come away from today not quite sure what I feel:

Disgust at the petty, emotional divisions that separate us as people blindly (and lazily) seek to identify with something larger than themselves instead of trying to be larger than any one political party, excitement at the prospect of seeing a sitting U.S. President and having the honor of the office on our campus, relief that it is still possible to find and discuss civilly with people who may not be exactly like you but share a common revulsion for extremism and willingness to work for what is good, and pride for my country and state as I see people actively engaged in the political life of their nation.

I may have felt a bit adrift, as I couldn't fully identify with either hysteric groups-- either the president's detractors or his groupies-- but I feel like I will remember this experience for a long time to come. And hey, at least they didn't throw eggs this time.
Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

Sunday, October 11, 2009

It Has Not Been the Best of Weekends


I'll try not to be too much of an empêcheur de tourner-en-rond-- a kill-joy-- but suffice it to say, this weekend was not the best. Things could always be worse, but then, they could always be better, too.

This weekend, two of my classmates from high school, whom I haven't seen for months, visited from Abilene. It was nice to see them and catch up, and I was fortunately able to find them in the cafeteria for dinner on Friday night. Now, I was supposed to go with them to the football game on Saturday, but this is where the first misfortune happened. You see, my friend Meghan (who was hosting them in her dorm room) collected our tickets during the week, so I was supposed to sit with them. However, I missed the game entirely because I had no idea that it was scheduled for 11:30 AM instead of the usual 6:00 PM. It was only at about 4:00 in the afternoon, after having spent most of the day diligently doing homework in the library in order to finish it before the game that night, that I discovered my mistake. And then I found out the Aggies lost, on top of it all. I just don't know why Meghan didn't call or text me, but I guess she was preoccupied during the game.

Then, this morning, my friend Evan was supposed to meet me for mass, but he was so late in coming that I had to resign myself to a spot in the adjacent chapel and watch it via camera and TV while he ended up going to the student activities center for the second, simultaneous overflow mass that started a bit later (St. Mary's is so full of people they have not only four different scheduled times on Sunday alone, but often two masses going on at one time during those timeframes). Anyway, this isn't the first time that I have tried to go to mass with people who have been late, and at our church, you have to get there decently early if you want a seat.

Speaking of mass, it was raining (and chilly) when I got out, so I rode my bike back to my room through the precipitation before going to lunch, where I ran into Meghan and L'nae before she had to leave for Abilene. While it was nice to be able to say goodbye to her, I learned something unsettling from Meghan.

I had been wondering if she would go to mass this weekend since she was hosting our two protestant friends. Apparently not. She told me they had gone to St. Thomas Episcopal church (I missed why that church specifically; I think Rebekah's brother goes there) and explained how it was similar to a Catholic liturgy, but their way of celebrating communion was different. Out of curiosity, I asked her if she had merely observed this difference or if she had also taken part in it, to which she replied nonchalantly that she had indeed participated in their communion service. I tried to point out, as graciously as I could, that she shouldn't have done that, but she insists that it's all about what one personally believes (one of the weakest relativist arguments I've ever heard). Immediately after that, I learned from her that while they had tried to find the Church of Christ here in College Station (L'nae and Rebekah are Church of Christ), she learned from our classmate Trever that his girlfriend was in town and that he and she were going to the service there but didn't have enough room in the car to take the girls as well.

A note to my non-Catholic readers: I am not making a case against you, here; I have a lot of respect for my brother and sister Christians, and I don't expect you to always agree with what I believe. My gripe here is with my fellow "Catholics" with whom I should at least be able to agree if we claim that name. What I am about to say is not meant to be exclusive or to draw boundaries out of an outdated sense of "us vs. them" but rather, to make an appeal to logic and the conviction of our faith (which I thought we shared).

You must understand that two of the most important things that make us Catholic are our obligation to attend mass each week and, most core of all to our faith, our belief in the real presence of Jesus in the Eucharist. Without getting into the complexities of this doctrine, simply understand that to a Catholic, Holy Communion is not merely a symbolic meal, but a metaphysical, miraculous sacrament wherein we receive not bread and wine, but Jesus' precious body, blood, soul, and divinity and signify our spiritual communion with all of our Catholic brothers and sisters throughout the world AND history.

Ordinarily, non-Catholics are not allowed to receive communion at mass, although they are welcome to come forward to be blessed, and by the same token, Catholics are not to receive communion at non-Catholic churches because those churches are not really in full communion with ours, and to do so would compromise and scandalize our belief in the Holy Eucharist.

Additionally, Catholics are ordinarily obliged to attend mass at least once a week on the Sabbath (either Saturday night or any time on Sunday), and to willfully miss mass is a grave sin. This is not meant to be a dictatorial imposition. Rather, the Church, knowing what is best for our souls and entrusted to the guardianship of those souls and God's Truth until Jesus' return, in her wisdom has placed this obligation upon us for our benefit. I cannot speak for others, but for myself (and I should think for other Catholics who strive to strengthen their faith through its practice and reception of the sacraments), attending mass is a joyful opportunity, not an unpleasant burden I do out of a sense of fear or duty. It's the difference between "I've got to go to mass on Sunday" and "I get to go to mass on Sunday" (and indeed, every day of the week if one wished).

Basically, it distresses me (and to be honest, at first, it angered me) to hear that two people who profess to believe the same thing as me, apparently do not. I'm trying very hard not to be judgemental, as it is probably a case of a lack of true understanding on their part (isn't it always? "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."), but is it so much to ask that people at least put forth the effort to seriously contemplate what they do, in fact, believe? Personally, I've never been able to depend on any of my Catholic classmates in high school (except maybe one, occasionally) to help explain Catholic beliefs to those who wanted to know more, and I hate to be cynical, but this doesn't really surprise me that they continue in their apathy.

I hope that my readers will not mistake my sentiments as a condemnation on their part, but rather understand my deep sense of disappointment and betrayal. If you and some friends belonged to a club, but they started compromising the values and core mission of that club, wouldn't you feel the same? Only in this case, we are talking of no mere club or social organization, but religion, which I believe is one of the most polarizing topics of conversation simply because it is tied with our core values and helps define who we are.

I feel the same way about supposedly Catholic politicians (John Kerry, John Edwards, Ted Kennedy, Kathleen Sibelius, etc.). Why bother calling yourself something if you don't agree with it? Why not just leave? You'd be in good company: King Henry VIII, Martin Luther... Just please don't fragment the already shattered body of Christ more by basically living a lie. At least have the courtesy and the courage to say what you really believe and stop being a "cafeteria Catholic."

Anyway, I don't know if I should even say anything to them or not bother; it's one of my struggles, being charitable, but then again, do I even have a responsibility for them anyway? They're big kids now, and I'm tired of holding their hands, always being there to represent Catholicism to others so they don't have to do any work.

"Let him who has ears hear."
Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

Saturday, October 3, 2009

Designated Driver is Disappointed

Last night, my friend Anna from Linguistics class (who is also the president of the French Club) invited me to go to "First Friday," which is apparently supposed to be a sort of art bazaar in nearby downtown Bryan. I was envisioning something akin to what one might see at a Renaissance festival, and it sounded interesting enough, kind of like something I might be able to see at home in Austin.

Well, it wasn't much of a street market. Some aspects felt like Austin, like the plethora of liberal bumper stickers and several people that looked like they'd be more at home down on The Drag near U.T. than in College Station. But unfortunately, there wasn't much in the way of artsy/crafty stuff. One place we did stop at had a sort of artsy vibe to it based on the wall paintings, and it was fun to go outside to the alley and watch old people dance to oldies (especially since we had a French student from Normandy with us who had heard only some of the most famous songs and had his first Mexican food that night at dinner).









After stopping there, most of the others wanted to go to this "café" called The Revolution. I say "café" because it was one of the most dingy, oppressive dives I've ever visited, and they hardly serve coffee there. Set at the base of a creepy abandoned-looking building, there is a courtyard of sorts adjacent to the tiny interior, which is extremely dark and apparently one of the few places in Bryan that still allows indoor smoking. The "art" on the walls was well done, technically, but the mood from it was creepy and dark: entirely suitable for the place, but hardly what I'd call uplifting.


We then proceeded to stand in front of some very loud speakers to listen to one of the most God-awful ensembles I've ever had the displeasure to hear. At first, I was thinking "Oh, it's "indie;" I just need to give it a try." But by the end of the hour, I'd had more than enough of standing amidst the secondhand smoke from every other person in the courtyard, bearing what was basically what I can only describe as a bunch of juveniles enjoying making a lot of very loud, very discordant noise. Even Anna said it was terrible compared to her friend's band, and the French student said "la musique est nulle"-- or in other words, it's awful. Here is just a sample of what I endured; just remember, it was about fifty times louder, too:



At the risk of sounding scathingly patronizing and elitist, I just have to mount the soapbox and say that maybe I just don't fit in with that subculture, but after having worked painstakingly to interpret such composers as Bach, Chopin, Mozart, and Beethoven, watching a scruffy, drunkard thrash and stumble around the stage while yelling and pounding an electric keyboard and calling it "art" or "music" is almost like a slap in the face. It could be that I'm a perfectionist, but it just seems that it is often the truly talented who remain hidden while the mediocre are so desperate for attention they will do anything to get into the spotlight, no matter how half-baked it is. I like this quote by Claude Monet:

"Perhaps it's true that I'm very hard on myself, but that's better than exhibiting mediocre work... too few were satisfactory enough to trouble the public with."

Anyway, the girl who drove us insisted that she could take us back, but both Anna and I (who, thankfully, doesn't drink and exhibited good sense) agreed that one of us should drive. Since she doesn't like to drive, it ended up being me. Fortunately, getting back to campus was not overly difficult, and I think it no small coincidence that it was also the Feast of the Guardian Angels; I'm certain one was looking out for me, anyway. I've never had to be a "designated driver," and I don't plan on doing this regularly, but of course I'm much too concerned for my own safety to let that from stopping me if the need arises again. You live and learn.

Speaking of feasts, and on a bit of a more positive note... Since tomorrow is the Feast of St. Francis, St. Mary's held a blessing of the animals today, and since I miss my dog at home an awful lot, I went to the little ceremony this morning to get some canine companionship. It was fun to watch all the dogs interacting and it's amazing how many varieties of a single species there are. I'm so thankful that God gave us these little friends-- our brothers and sisters, as St. Francis would say-- and I can't wait until I can have a dog in my life again.





















Friday, September 25, 2009

Oh, the Irony!

Last night was one of the busiest nights I've had for a while. Earlier in the day, I received an invitation from my Fish Camp friend Angela, whom I also know from church, to go dancing at one of the local country dance halls for her birthday that night. Figuring it would be a good excuse to finally go out, I was glad to accept the invitation, but before that, I had several meetings to attend.

I started off the evening by going to daily mass like I've usually been doing on Thursdays, and after that, I had my first Aggie International Ambassadors meeting, although it was, unfortunately, almost on the other side of the campus from where St. Mary's is, and I would eventually have to return to the church for my next engagement.

The AIA meeting was all right, although I'm not as enthusiastic about it as I'd like to be- yet, anyway. The highlight was learning some of the characters of the Arabic script from an Iraqi student officer, but I still haven't fully figured out how I will be involved with that group.

After that meeting concluded, I hopped back on my bike and pedaled like mad through the dark and the cold and rain all the way back to St. Mary's, where the first session of my Theology of the Body study group was meeting. We got to know the other people in the group before watching a video presentation by Christopher West, the champion of Pope John Paul II's radical theology about human sexuality. Some of his points were brilliant and extremely thought provoking, like the idea that the body is the only way we can make visible what is invisible and that it would be impossible to know that someone else existed were it not for his own body for you to experience through your own senses. Also, I thought the idea that each person's existence and no less than human history itself literally hinges on who is having sex with whom was earth-shattering. In any case, the entire theology is deeply inspiring, and God bless JPII for bringing us this new "sexual revolution" at the our we need it most.

Once that was over, it was only a short bike ride (still in the dark and cold, though) over to Harry's where I waited around for a while for Angela, although fortunately, her high school friend Drew who is also in my Theology of the Body study group was there as well. She didn't show up until about half an hour later, but the place was pretty empty while we waited anyway. Once she did arrive, I met a few of her other friends from high school (all of whom were Catholic as well, which was nice), and by that time, a lot more people had started to fill up the dance floor, too.


Now, Harry's is a country/Western type dance hall, so most of what they played up until a certain point was country music, and I had a good time dancing with Angela, one of her friends, and-- ironically-- two friends from my own high school I ran into, one of whom graduated three years earlier than me, despite the fact that it was so crowded everyone couldn't help running into each other and practically no one can dance in time to the music anyway (Texas two-stepping just doesn't work in some meters, people!) Emily (the older girl from my school) and I kept giving each other a hard time about the irony of meeting a Catholic/Church of Christ fellow in a dance hall and bar (if you knew our high school, this would strike you as infinitely more amusing). But everyone that I knew had fun until...

The club music started. Normally, I don't mind modern dance music too much, although after last night, I really realised just how much of it is centered solely around the philosophy of self-centered idolatry and sexual promiscuity (and how painful the constant vibration of an over-worked bass can feel after a couple hours sending tremors through your entire body, let alone your eardrums). It was heartening that everyone whom I was with took to the elevated seating overlooking the dance floor when the grinding started, but I couldn't help but to be struck by the utter, yet tragic, irony of my night once the DJ's started hollering about all the "ladies" "getting laid" that night just before tossing out condoms into the crowd. I mean, here I was just hours before at a study dedicated to the reverence and renewal of our sacred sexuality and a profound turn-around in even the way we understand our own incarnate existence as both spiritual AND physical creatures, and right in front of me, I saw just what it is that we are up against in this culture war.

I've always been fascinated with watching other people's behavior, and tonight was no different, as I had nothing else to do in the meantime, yet this time was tinged with a pang of sadness, or realisation, that I can't remember having experienced before. I've always wondered what our guardian angels think of us, especially since I once heard that the angels have cause to be jealous of us since God created us not merely as pure spirits, but with a corporeal existence in which we can experience creation viscerally and even receive His son in a way infinitely more intimate than ever could in the Eucharist. God knows I've disappointed my own (if disappointment they feel) often enough, but I couldn't help but wonder what must it be like to be down in that crowd, watching-- perhaps even helplessly-- as the creatures you were made to protect heedlessly throw their sacred dignity away.

Anyway, I had fun, but I definitely had a brush with what my Shakespeare professor has been calling "the darker side of the dream" while we've been studying A Midsummer Night's Dream. Thankfully, God has revealed a glimmer of His true plan for our lives to me through the friends I have at St. Mary's, and I was especially grateful for the grace of the Eucharist while I felt a bit "in the lion's den." But rather than be overcome by despair, I find inspiration in the great examples God has given us in the saints, two of whom, St. John Bosco and St. Josemaria Escriva, said:

"Holy Purity, the queen of virtues, the angelic virtue, is a jewel so precious that those who possess it become like the angels of God in heaven, even though clothed in mortal flesh."

 -St. John Bosco

"There is need for a crusade of manliness and purity to counteract and nullify the savage work of those who think man is a beast. And that crusade is your work. Many live like angels in the middle of the world. You, … why not you?" -St. Josemaria Escriva

John Paul II, St. Maria Goretti, and Sts. Mary and Joseph, please pray for us.

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

The First of Autumn

Fall Rain


With the start of my favorite season and the wonderful, cool, wet weather it brings, I have been inspired to write again, despite my busy schedule lately.

I have spent most of the month of September establishing my daily routine and becoming comfortable with my various classes, although I still have a couple of time-management issues to work out. Still, the semester is coming along almost on its own, and it's hard to believe it's almost the fifth week of the school year already. At this point in the semester, I have just reached the first crest where I am taking my first college exams after having finished the first units in many of my classes. On Monday, I took my first Linguistics test and tonight I took my first Anthropology test, both of which were fortunately easier than I anticipated. I've got a French project and a History test due next week as well, but if I keep knocking things out little by little, it shouldn't be too difficult.

Besides continuing my studies, I have been trying to cultivate my other interests and social network as well; I have met three inspiring religious sisters from Italy at St. Mary's who offer spiritual direction and are the closest thing to a mother I've got here, so I've finally got some real motivation to get going on learning Italian. I found some Rosetta Stone software and Pimsleur audio CDs in our library's wonderfully extensive collection and have been trying to practice regularly. As similar as it is to Spanish and French, it is still frustrating at times to realize just how separate it is as its own language, but I am thankful, in any case, for all the background knowledge I already have of the Romance languages. Hopefully, I'll be able to communicate well enough when I study abroad, and even though I plan to live in France, I'd really love to visit Italy again.

I haven't practiced piano as much as I'd have liked to, especially since I'm trying to be involved in St. Mary's music ministry, but I'm pretty sure if I'd seriously apply myself to maintaining my time-management board, I could make some time regularly to do so. I've also joined the French club here as well as Aggie International Ambassadors, so I've got quite the array of sides to go with my full, 17-hour plate.

And on another note, as a temporary, minimal time commitment going on right now, I am involved in SMAPL, or, St. Mary's Aggies Promoting Life, and our first event was attending the 40 Days for Life campaign's kickoff outside the local Planned Parenthood. 40 Days for Life is one of the most inspiring movements I've ever seen, as it is a 24-hour vigil for forty days on the sidewalk right in front of Planned Parenthood, and it's not just going on here; it has spread from Aggieland around the country and even to Denmark. I've participated in activism before by attending the annual Texas Rally for Life in Austin, but it was a different experience this time since the Planned Parenthood supporters were having their own gathering on the other side of their oppressive, black-screened fence. The director of the campaign, a former Aggie who started it right here in College Station, delivered a very moving speech in which he addressed the issue of apathy towards such a vital endeavor with a comparison to the European civilians who did nothing to aide their fellow human beings during the Holocaust. Afterward, we visited the Coalition for Life's pregnancy counseling home located strategically- and blessedly- just across the street from the abortion clinic. These photos give you a sense of the contrast between the hopeless Planned Parenthood compound and the homey, welcoming Coalition for Life Home.






It's been getting cooler and raining quite often now, which makes me happy, except for when I get wet riding from class to class. Still, it's my favorite type of weather- very conducive to writing, for me anyway- and as November draws closer at an alarming rate, I'm really going to try to get as much planning done before NaNo starts.

For now, I'm enjoying one of the best times of the year, and I hope you enjoy the video montage I found to commemorate this First of Autumn.
Reblog this post [with Zemanta]